


Saturday Night

by HollyMartins



Series: Fem!Eggsy and Harry Collection [2]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: F/M, Female Eggsy, Fix-It, Harry Hart Lives, mention of sexual assault, trigger warning: sexual assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 04:59:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4508715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyMartins/pseuds/HollyMartins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Eggsy are enjoying a quiet night at home when duty calls. What should be a straightforward missions turns into a scary encounter for our heroine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturday Night

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for mention of potential sexual assault and slurs

“You’re too fucking tall,” Eggsy grumbles.

Harry opens one eye and smirks.

“How can you tell?” he replies. “We’re laying down.”

“Yeah, but look,” she says, wriggling under the covers, “look how far down I gotta go before our feet touch.” She shimmies down until her feet touch his at the foot of the bed, her head disappearing under the covers. Harry lifts the covers and looks down at her.

“Does it matter that our feet don’t touch while we’re in bed?” he asks.

“Not necessarily,” she answers, climbing back up. She turns on her side and props up her head with her hand, smiling down at Harry.

“Perhaps you are too short,” he says, wrapping a long arm around her waist.

“Don’t be daft.”

“You’re right,” he says. “I quite like you the height you are.”

He pulls her in for a kiss and he doesn’t care that he sounds and is acting like a lovestruck teenager. It’s about time he gets to be one.

Eggsy grins against his lips and pulls herself flush against his body. 

“Do you know what I quite like?” she says.

“Hmm?” he mumbles, blinking up at her.

She gets up on her elbows and raises a hand to run her fingers through his soft hair. 

“I quite like it when your hair is all loose and tousled like this,” she whispers. “It’s quite sexy.”

“I thought you liked the sharp-dressed gentleman look.”

“I do but this is… intimate.” She leans up and kisses him gently on his forehead. “Only I get to see it like this.”

Harry flushes and nods.

“Yes, just you.”

Eggsy’s glasses, hidden in the nightstand drawer, decide to buzz at that very moment.

“And Merlin,” she groans, rolling over and reaching into the drawer. She slips the glasses on and lies down, staring at the ceiling. “Merlin, babe, what’s going on?”

“You’re due at HQ within the hour,” he says, ignoring the term of endearment. “And I would suggest that Arthur gets his arse out of bed and to his office, as well.”

Eggsy turns onto her side and takes in the sight of Harry running a hand over his face. 

“Doesn’t Harry look cute this way?” she asks. “His hair looks so much better all ruffled, right?”

“Yes, it’s breathtaking,” Merlin grumbles, “now get out of bed, the both of you before I send someone over to drag you out.”

“Fine, fine,” Eggsy grouses, “keep your shirt on.”

“I can easily make a joke about that but I’m far too professional. Now get going.”

With that, Merlin disconnects and Eggsy takes her glasses off. She turns back to Harry, who is pulling back the covers and sitting up.

“Rain check, then?” she asks.

“Definitely.” He stands and turns, leaning over to kiss her fully. She hums against his lips. “Now get up,” he says and lightly taps her on her arse. She yelps and laughs, following him out of bed and into the en suite.

 

“This is shite.”

“It’s an exquisite example of craftsmanship; a true one of a kind.”

Eggsy grabs a hold of the top of her gown and yanks it up. 

“Careful,” Harry says. “That’s English lace.”

“Why can’t I just wear one of my suits?” she asks, turning away from the mirror. 

“I’m afraid that this gala will be overwhelmingly attended by a, ah, more conservative and traditional group of dignitaries,” Harry answers, leaning against the wall and gazing at Eggsy, resplendent in a deep red column gown. Her hair is swept up and her make-up minimal. Harry adores her the most when she’s merely in old boxer shorts and oversized t-shirts, dancing around his kitchen as she eats cold, leftover chips but this… this is quite nice, as well.

“So a roomful of white-haired sexist prigs who can’t see a woman in a suit without having a hemorrhage,” she says. “Just how I like to spend my Saturday nights.”

Harry grins and steps towards her, slipping his hand into his pocket.

“It’ll only be a couple hours,” he says gently. “And sexist and priggish as they may be, you mustn’t take anyone out, remember. This is merely a mission to plant a tracking device.”

“Awww,” Eggsy pouts.

Harry takes his hand out of his pocket and reveals a diamond necklace with one teardrop pearl in the center.

“Cor, Harry,” Eggsy breathes, “that better be fake.”

“The pearl is a camera and microphone,” he says, slipping around her neck. He steps behind her to clasp it shut and he thinks this may be the most intimate thing he’s ever done with her. Well, maybe at HQ. “Do not lose this. It cost us quite a bit to make it.”

Eggsy turns around and faces him. Her hand gently comes up to touch the pearl.

“Alright?” she asks.

“Alright,” Merlin replies in her nearly invisible earpiece. “Looking good, Eggsy.”

“Feeling like a prat,” she replies. “How am I supposed to run in these fuckin’ heels?”

“You’re not,” Harry reminds her. “You’re simply placing the tracking device on the mark and then leaving. Let’s avoid getting into a situation where you have to run.”

Eggsy rolls her eyes and accepts the shawl that he hands her. 

“Fine, fine, though you’re taking all the fun out of being a Kingsman.”

“Yes, we are terrible,” Merlin replies. “The car’s waiting outside. Good luck, Bedivere.”

Eggsy nods and takes a step up to Harry before kissing him gently.

“For fuck’s sakes,” Merlin groans.

“Oh shut it,” Harry grins.

 

The gala is even worse than she had imagined. While she’s not the youngest woman there, Eggsy finds herself to be among a select group of leggy, severe-looking young model-types, all of which stare at her as she walks in unaccompanied. They all have their arms intertwined with squat, balding, chinless billionaires, and Eggsy has to keep herself from gagging when she sees a Kate Moss clone kissing a toad-like man who looks older than God. 

Her mark is easy enough to find. He’s at the bar and leering at every female who walks past while listening to another man drone on about the countries with the best tax loopholes and how difficult it is to find a housekeeper who speaks English and other idiotic racist nonsense. 

“I think I’m gonna vomit,” Eggsy whispers into her champagne glass.

“Wait until you get back to the car,” Merlin instructs. “And make sure you aim for the nape of his neck underneath his hair.”

“I don’t want to touch him.”

“No one does.”

“For fuck’s sakes.”

It’s actually quite easy to get his attention. She saunters over to the bar and trips on those stupid bloody heels, nearly colliding into him. He grins at her as he catches her, a hand purposely brushing her breast.

“Careful now, love,” he says and he smells of alcohol and cigar smoke. 

She smiles at him and accepts his help onto an empty seat and engages him in easy conversation. While she never considered herself as effortlessly beautiful as Roxy, she knows that between this stupid dress and her young looks, he’ll be eating out of her hand presently.

She laughs at his jokes (they’re not funny), blinks up at him as if she’s thick, and leans into his personal space. There had been perfume in the car and though she never wore any in her personal life, she had to admit, it had a bit of a heady scent to it.

The only thing that’s going wrong is that he won’t take his eyes off of her. She’s been able to lightly touch his leg and put her hand on his arm as she laughs but she needs to get underneath his hair. Also, he’s boring her to death.

“Let’s go, Bedivere,” Merlin says in her ear after 45 minutes. “If I have to hear this bloke talk about his yachts again, I’ll have you doing paperwork for a month.”

“What are you doing after?” the mark asks her, leaning in far too close.

“I haven’t decided yet,” she breathes. “Why?”

“Well, a few of us are having a little get together at my home tonight,” he says, motioning to the bartender. “Cocktails, some light entertainment. Just a quiet, pleasant evening at home.” The look in his eyes makes Eggsy’s stomach clench.

“Do you live very far from here?” she asks, leaning her chin in her hand and pursing her lips. She read somewhere that guys like that. She’ll have to ask Harry about it later.

“Only a half-hour by plane.”

“You brought your own plane?” Eggsy raises an eyebrow.

“Brand new and fully stocked,” he grins.

“Fuck me, stocked with what?” Merlin wonders.

She accepts a fresh glass of champagne and mimes taking a sip. He’s smiling at her and all she wants is for this disgusting cad to turn around so can slip the tracker somewhere on him. Then it dawns on her.

“Who else will be on the plane?” she asks coquettishly. 

“Just the pilot,” he grins. 

“Oh really?” And she feels queasy and really would rather take down several dozen highly trained assassins than move any nearer to this man but she does it for Queen and country. Lie back and think of England.

She inches closer and motions to him with her finger and as he leans in, she brings her lips to his ear. He turns towards the bar and as she breathily describes what she would like to do in the plane with him, he closes his eyes and she slips the tracker out of her purse (it’s no thicker than a piece of tape and barely the size of a contact lens) and brings her hand to his neck. She runs dainty fingers through his gray hair and he shivers. 

“Excellent, Bedivere,” Merlin says, relieved. “Now go home.”

“Will you excuse me?” she says.

“Where are you going?” He grabs her wrist and squeezes. 

“Just to the ladies’ room,” she says. “I’d like to freshen up. I’ll be right back.”

She places her finger on his lips and waits until she’s swallowed by the crowd to break out into a faster pace. Give her a thousand V-days over something like this. She’ll have to tell Arthur and Merlin that these sorts of missions make her uncomfortable, though they can probably tell. She wonders if Harry has been watching from his office and though she feels no shame or guilt over using sex to complete the mission, she rather wishes he didn’t have to hear it.

She’s about 20 feet from the exit when a large hand grabs her upper arm and swings her back. 

“I knew you weren’t going to the loo,” he grunts. “Trying to run off? After what you promised?”

She wills her heart to calm down and she smiles.

“Just popping out for a smoke, love,” she says.

“I don’t like my women to smoke,” he says, stepping into her space again. 

“Bedivere, get away from him,” Merlin says firmly in her ear. “But do NOT engage. No scenes.”

“May I at least go to the toilet?” she asks.

“There’s one on the plane,” and she realizes he’s trying to lead her down a back hall, away from the ballroom. 

“I’m not ready to go,” she says and frees her arm from his grasp. 

“Bedivere,” Merlin warns.

He pushes her shoulder against the wall and she is so shocked by the action that she finds herself suddenly cornered. She stares at him and assesses the situation: he’s large but slow, well over 65, and has several drinks in him. She glances up and sees the security camera on the ceiling. If he does something, it would be seen but he’s a rich old white man. Nothing would happen to him and if she does something, she could risk exposing Kingsman. She looks back at him.

“You’re coming with me, deary,” he says, the alcohol strong on his breath.

She raises an eyebrow. 

“Am I?”

He steps closer and his large body is flush against hers. 

“Yes, you fucking are, you pretty little slut.”

“Eggsy, engage.” Harry’s voice is tense and Eggsy exhales shakily. 

“Arthur, no, we need that mark,” Merlin hisses in her ear. 

“Eggsy.” 

She finds herself smiling at the sound of her name on his lips. 

“You’re no gentleman,” she says and he blinks at her stupidly. Her eyes dart up to the camera. “But lucky for you, I’m not much of a lady either. Shall we go somewhere more private?”

His eyes follow hers and he stares, as if he trying to decipher what he was looking at. 

“Come on,” she purrs and grabs his wrist. She leads him down the hallway until she finds what she’s looking for. The door isn’t locked and she opens it.

“A broom closet?” he asks.

“Lost your nerve?”

He grins at her and follows her in. She closes the door behind her and through the light peeking from underneath the door, she opens her clutch. Her hand wraps around a small item and snaps it shut. Then she brings her hands to his groin, palming him. He makes a shuddery noise and she quells down her nausea. She glances up and smiles when he sees his eyes are closed. She doubts this guy has much stamina and while she would love to simply chop his cock off, she knows he has to be alive at least until Kingsman gets the information they want from him. So she raises her other hand and points the watch towards his neck. She clicks it over to AMNESIA and presses the release. He’s down before she even has a chance to blink.

“Well done,” Merlin says. “Now get home.”

“Home or HQ?”

“Home,” Harry says. “We’ll debrief you tomorrow.”

She contemplates spitting on the crumbled body at her feet but decides it wouldn’t be very gentlemanly. So she merely flips him off and walks out of the closet, down the hall, into the ballroom, and out the exit to her car. She can’t wait to take off these fucking heels.

 

She takes off her necklace and removes the earpiece in the car. She all but throws the heels across the car and slips on the trainers she had brought along. She sighs in relief and when the car pulls up to Harry’s townhouse, she’s out before it even comes to a complete stop.

Harry throws open the door and his tall silhouette is illuminated by the hall light. Eggsy wonders when he had returned to the house but she is very grateful that he is there to greet her. He pauses only a moment before, in two long strides, he gathers her into his arms.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers into her hair. “I should’ve done more research on him. I shouldn’t have let you go alone. I should’ve done it.”

“Harry, it’s alright,” she mumbles against his chest, warm and solid and heart beating wildly. 

“It’s not alright,” he insists. “If anything had happened-”

“But it didn’t. I gave the fucker what he deserved,” she says. “Well, I would’ve liked to castrate him but I know having the mark bleed out went against the mission.”

He tightens his grip around her and kisses the top of her head. 

“I’ll never have you do something like that again,” he says firmly. “And I’ll make sure that once we’re done with him, he’ll pay. I promise.”

“Harry, enough,” she sighs. “Let’s go inside.”

He turns and leads her into the house. He locks the door behind her and places an arm around her shoulders.

“Let’s get you washed up, love,” he whispers.

She normally finds his desire to pamper her quite embarrassing but tonight, she’ll let him have this. He takes her to their en suite and methodically undoes the buttons on the back of her dress as she takes down her hair. It falls to her shoulders just as he gets to the last button and the top of her dress falls.

“I need a haircut,” she observes. 

He hums in approval and kisses her bare shoulders. 

“Step up, my dear,” he says as he goes to his knees and helps her step out of her gown and smiles at the sight of her feet in trainers. He gently grasps her ankle and lifts her feet out of them.

“Thank God, I couldn’t breathe in that stupid dress,” she murmurs.

“I promise to only give you missions that require your suit,” he says as he stands up. He places a hand on the side of her face and runs his thumb along her cheekbone. “Shall we sleep in tomorrow?”

“We have work in the morning.”

“Sod it.”

“You’re a terrible Arthur.”

“I know,” he grins and leans in to kiss her gently.

She reaches up and runs her hands through his hair. She moans against his lips and relishes the feeling of being held against his lean body. 

“Come on, Harry,” she whispers. “Let’s go to bed.”

He reaches down and picks her up bridal style.

“Harry!” she yelps, laughing. “Stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“I’m not that old yet,” he replies and carries her into the bedroom. 

He lays her down on the bed and is about to kiss her when his glasses, folded on the nightstand, buzz.

“For fuck’s sake,” he groans as Eggsy laughs, covering her mouth her hands. He stands up, turns, and slips them on. “Yes, Merlin.”

“How’s Eggsy?”

“Fine. Now may we go to sleep?”

“Am I interrupting something?” he asks and Harry can just picture the amused look on his face, eyebrow raised over his glasses.

“Yes, our sleep. And please be aware that neither of us will be in tomorrow morning.”

“Hang on, you’ve got to-” Merlin sputters.

Harry takes off his glasses and disconnects the feed. He turns back to Eggsy who is smiling up at him, her eyes bright and color high in her cheeks.

He grins.

“Now,” he says, “where were we?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and remember, comments are love! Be sure to stop by my tumblr to say hello! http://hollymartinswrites.tumblr.com/


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